Will Durst

A few words about the Republican National Convention, or it's alternative title: Women with big hair and the men in white shoes who love them.

"White" certainly was the operable word in Tampa. I had to feel bad for the one black guy the networks kept cutting to during all the speeches. They tried everything to make him look like a crowd. Different camera angles. He probably had his own wardrobe assistant suggesting: "Put on the cowboy hat now!" and "Try the handlebar mustache! You know this poor guy had to be some prairie state legislator's driver.

A few words on Mitt Romney's vice presidential pick, Paul Ryan: the big-time budget guru of the G.O.P. Everyone keeps calling it a "bold choice." Yeah, well maybe, but you know bold is not always synonymous with good.

Whiskey for breakfast is a bold choice. Spun glass underwear is bold. Four-head dragon tattoos. Passing an 18-wheeler on a blind curve going 80 in the rain – incredibly bold. Just not that necessarily smart.

Planetary props to the city of London for a monumentally memorable 30th Olympiad. Added kudos for keeping the athletic contests pretty much politics-free, except of course for the monumental ugliness that was the women's semifinal field hockey match between Great Britain and Argentina (a.k.a. The Falklands War II, this time it’s personal!)

Will Durst here, wishing Mitt Romney the heartiest of welcomes home. He's got to be more relieved than a Midwestern corn farmer in the middle of a thunderstorm to be back on American soil. The GOP nominee embarked on a goodwill trip designed to raise his foreign policy bonafides, but the six-day charm offensive proved to be a bit light on the charm and rather heavy on the offensive. 

Who knows why Mitt Romney doesn’t release his old tax records. Obviously he's hiding something. But what?

So desperate to avoid the question, he ran away to the Olympics. Why? Because that’s where the cameras are pointed. And apparently he’s determined to get in front of them and not answer any questions about his taxes, which makes a person wonder even more what could possibly be buried under there. Is it too complicated for we mere mortals to understand. Or something nefarious?

All of America should drop to its knees and thank the GOP for providing America with our replacement fireworks. Cities all over the country this year were forced to cancel Fourth of July festivities due to lack of money, fear of fire, and incompetent computers.

Permanently capitalizing the “P” in Presumptive Nominee, the Texas primary shoved Mitt Romney right over the delegate precipice. And now with the nomination locked up tighter than a rusted pickle jar 20,000 leagues beneath the sea, the campaign has taken a sudden turn towards the nebulous. Candidates don’t make mistakes in the murky bog of summer. Even when they do, the atmosphere is too hazy to notice.

Summer: Day one

May 26, 2012

Disregard the almanac. And the calendar. Forget whatever the meteorologist or the astrology charts or your next-door neighbor with the hair growing out of a mole shaped like the state of Delaware on his nose told you. The true wormhole opening to summer is not the upcoming solstice on Wednesday, June 20th – it is, has been, and forever shall be the last Monday of May, Memorial Day.

A thousand rainbows of congratulations to Barack Obama for bursting out of his own personal policy closet and fabulously proclaiming he believes “same sex couples should be able to get married.” He explained he was slow in coming to this conclusion because his thoughts had evolved over time. And this was no slow Darwinian evolution. He spontaneously grew flippers and started walking on dry land, crawling all the way to stand next to Dick Cheney's position. Come to think of it, maybe flippers aren't the only thing Obama grew.

It’s once again time to play that quadrennial game sensation sweeping the nation: Guess the Vice Presidential Pick!

Since Mitt Romney has sewed up the Republican nomination tighter than one of Chris Christie’s old suits, the only drama left is which name the former governor of Massachusetts intends to place on the bottom of his bumper sticker. So let's look at the field of potential running mates. We'll start with the vanquished competition.

Now that the general election has unofficially begun, you and I and pretty much everybody dear to us, except for Kansas City Royals fans, are about to be buried under a blizzard of polls.

Remember when his own staffers said Mitt Romney had the conviction of an Etch-A-Sketch? Well stand back because, as we speak, the former governor from Massachussetts is being flipped over and shaken so hard, the fillings in the back teeth of his whole family are starting to rattle. What this all means is that we're entering the general election mode. So anything Mitt Romney might have said during the primary no longer applies.

Will Durst here with a few words on the uncanny similarities between the 2012 Republican primary race and a game of Angry Birds. There's more than you might think.

For one thing, just like the 2012 Republican primary race, you'd have to be a hermit living in one of the recesses of a Sonoran Desert vertical zinc mine not to be aware of Angry Birds. They're both infuriatingly cute and terminally addictive pastimes that experts consider major enemies to both sanity and productivity in America today.

A few words about the Supreme Court hearing testimony about "Obama Care." Because it's the highest court in the land, we can assume the arguments were solemn, dignified, and incisive...

“Obama Care Sucks!” “Does not.” “Does So.” “Does Not.” Like that, only in elevated lawyer language.

A few words here for all my fellow Muppets, referring to Greg Smith, formerly of Goldman Sachs, who wrote an op-ed in the New York Times announcing he's out  of there due to his company’s extreme moral bankruptcy. According to Smith, associates are encouraged to rip off their own billion-dollar clients and regularly disparage them as Muppets.

And now your eagerly awaited Super Tuesday Report. Or perhaps it would be better to say Not So Super Tuesday report. More of a Frenetic and Confusing but Ultimately Unsatisfying with a Slight Aftertaste of Desperation Tuesday Report.

Don’t mean to overreact and risk boosting everybody’s blood pressure higher than opening offers on Facebook’s IPO, but this might be a halfway decent time to seek out a nice, safe, steel bunker to hunker down in or behind, because it’s awards season and heavy metal statuettes are being tossed around like dimes at a county fair. Like the flurry of résumés from the outer office of Michele Bachmann’s inner circle. As plentiful as the doubts currently circling Mitt Romney’s Super PAC.

There's something about Mitt. And whatever it is, a few folks are definitely allergic. Maybe they sense he has the same connection to humanity that a drive shaft has to bouillabaisse. Could be he's worth more than most small Balkan nations. Might be the Mormon thing or perhaps he just smells odd?

Will Durst here, with a few words on Barack Obama's third, and possibly last, State of the Union address. Although it's an election year, the administration went out of its way to reinforce that this was not a campaign speech, just a report on the progress being made. Apparently, the state of the union is pretty much exactly what we thought it was: good, getting better, but not quite great. Oh, it's definitely going to be great someday, because America has been great before and we will be great again soon. How soon? Well, that's the question. Tomorrow? Next month? 2014?


Will Durst here, with a few words about the New Hampshire primary, which is by now so 2011. It is such old news, you probably read about it in some ancient medium like a newspaper with sepia toned daguerreotypes. Yes, I'm reminiscing to way back to Mitt Romney's New Hampshire romp. And what a righteous romp it was. The grimacing refugee from Madame Tussaud's waxworks beat the rest of the field like a 4-year-old with a dime store drum on Christmas morning and now the first Republican non-incumbent to sweep both the Iowa caucuses and the New Hampshire primary.

WILL DURST: Hey guys, Will Durst here with my 8th annual top ten comedic news stories of the year.  Now please be warned this list is not to be confused with the top ten legitimate news stories of the year... no no no. They are as different as three bean chili and paisley bow ties. Like strip-mining slag heaps and little Rubber Duckies, wide haired dwarf goats and plastic dinnerware.  Now these are the events from the year of our Lord 2011 that most lent themselves to mocking and scoffing and taunting, in ample amounts.